Although Ludwig had often heard Morin say strange things before.
But for most of those strange remarks, he could more or less guess their meaning, attributing them to Morin's advanced ideas.
But this "Protocol Three" right now truly baffled him.
What protocol?
Why skip to three?
Where were protocols one and two?
Inside the cockpit, Ludwig couldn't help but ask these three soul-searching questions.
Fortunately, he understood the latter part: "Throw me over!"
Looking at Morin, who was currently half-crouching on the bionic hand and pulling a tuft of cat hair from his pocket, Ludwig was clearly hesitant.
Watching this scene through his panoramic vision, he felt this request was simply too insane.
However, after so many battles, this upright Teutonic Knight, full of honor, had developed an extraordinary level of trust in Morin.
Just like the soldiers of the instruction unit, he and Morin had long become true "brothers-in-arms."
Otherwise, it would be impossible for him to actually jump out of an armored airship with three Armored Knights; this was clearly not something simple trust could achieve.
So, after only a moment's hesitation, Ludwig unhesitatingly increased the Armored Knight's power output.
Under his control, the clunky "big iron lump" pulled its mechanical arm back—a standard javelin-throwing motion.
The next instant, the internal combustion engine and the auxiliary magitech core roared simultaneously. The released energy was converted into pure mechanical energy by the Armored Knight's complex mechanical structure and magitech muscle bundles.
"Allez-oop!"
Immediately after, the mechanical arm thrust violently forward. An intense feeling of acceleration hit instantly, and Morin was launched into the air.
At the moment he flew out, Morin couldn't help but feel that Ludwig put a bit of personal grudge into that throw...
From the Armored Knight's position to the tunnel on the mountain was only a straight-line distance of about 150 meters... It wasn't actually that far, but after "taking off," Morin immediately felt his decision was the right one.
Because looking down from the aerial perspective, the ground below was littered with rubble piles, protruding rock formations, and two rows of barbed wire.
If he ran over on two legs, even with his extremely high agility, vaulting over these obstacles would definitely waste a lot of time.
The shortest distance between two points is a straight line, so going through the air was obviously much faster.
And before taking off, Morin had already cast [Enhance Ability - Cat's Grace] on himself. At this moment, he stretched his body in the air, firmly pressing the stock of his submachine gun into his shoulder pocket.
With Morin's current constitution, he could easily fire the gun one-handed.
But in this more stable posture, the recoil of the submachine gun was almost negligible. In his hands, the weapon effectively became a "laser gun" that hit exactly where he pointed.
In mid-air, Morin pulled the trigger, the muzzle spitting flames.
"Da-da-da-da—"
At a distance of over a hundred meters, under Morin's forceful recoil control, he forcibly compressed the impact area of the MP14 submachine gun into an extremely tight cluster. The bullets poured down on the Romanian soldiers climbing the mountain slope.
Meanwhile, Ludwig, having completed the throw, wasn't idle either.
He extended the Armored Knight's arms. The twin-linked MG08 heavy machine guns mounted under the mechanical arms let out a deafening roar. Thick, long tongues of fire swept toward the mountain, the dense barrage covering a large area.
Many Romanian soldiers climbing the mountain were instantly cut down.
These soldiers of the Home Defense Brigade were considered "capable fighters" in mountain warfare even across the entire Balkan Peninsula, but what happened tonight truly exceeded their understanding.
Putting aside the fact that Armored Knights had just dropped from the sky, just the fact that someone was currently flying through the air, firing as they approached... no matter how you looked at it, it was a bit too much to comprehend.
"Boom!"
It happened in a flash. Morin, who rapidly emptied a magazine in the air, crashed directly into the enemy formation carrying massive kinetic energy.
Scree and dust flew violently. Many Romanian soldiers on the narrow mountain path were knocked over by the impact.
Some lost their footing and tumbled down the steep rock face, their screams echoing in the night sky.
But to Morin's surprise, the remaining Romanian soldiers, including the lieutenant colonel who appeared to be their commander, displayed a will to fight at this moment that far exceeded others.
They didn't run, nor did they drop their weapons to surrender. Instead, they tried to raise their muzzles to shoot at Morin.
In that instant, Morin even clearly saw the face of that Romanian officer in the lieutenant colonel's uniform... It was the face of a middle-aged man filled with absolute resolve.
The man held a pistol in both hands, the muzzle already aimed at Morin's chest...
Morin had always felt that a true warrior's ultimate destination was the battlefield of their final fight.
Although he would never shoot an enemy soldier who surrendered—upholding the glorious tradition of "spare those who surrender their weapons" was his consistent style.
But for these enemies encountered on the battlefield who did not surrender, and who were simultaneously worthy of respect, Morin always showed them the highest respect—which was to draw a close to their lives with an all-out fight.
Morin completed his magazine change the instant he landed. His footsteps didn't pause for a fraction of a second, using his landing momentum to dash forward.
Lieutenant Colonel Popescu, commander of the pass defense force, pulled his trigger, and the several Romanian officers around him also opened fire.
"Bang! Bang!"
Faint blue ripples pulsed in the air. The bullets striking Morin were all blocked by the [Mage Armor] he had cast using a higher-level spell slot.
And the MP14 submachine gun in the latter's hands roared once again.
"Da-da-da—"
In a short, precise burst, the bullets ruthlessly pierced Lieutenant Colonel Popescu's chest. The Romanian commander's body jerked backward, crashing heavily onto the scree...
When the dust completely settled, only Morin was left standing on the mountain path.
He quickly scanned the corpses on the ground. Besides a lieutenant colonel, there were a few other Romanians in officer uniforms.
Judging from the enemy unit cards displayed on the system map, he had highly likely just annihilated the commander of the pass defense force and his staff detachment.
Morin walked up to Lieutenant Colonel Popescu's body and bowed his head slightly. Then, confirming all surrounding enemy soldiers were dead, Morin didn't hesitate, turning and charging straight for the tunnel entrance.
Approaching the tunnel entrance, Morin directly activated the [Detect Life] he had prepared in advance.
His vision was instantly covered by a special filter. The surrounding rocks and dirt became semi-transparent under the filter, and deep inside the tunnel, six bright vital sign signals clearly appeared.
They were gathered at the very deepest part of the tunnel.
Morin took a deep breath, quickened his pace, and rushed into the tunnel.
The interior of the tunnel was damp and dim, illuminated only by the faint light of a few kerosene lamps hanging on the walls. His footsteps were amplified in the narrow space, immediately drawing the attention of the enemies deep inside.
The six Romanian soldiers quickly saw Morin rushing in. The Saxon Imperial Army uniform made them hesitate for a moment in the dim light.
However, realizing the newcomer was not friendly, the first reaction of five Romanian soldiers was to raise their rifles and pull the triggers.
As for the remaining man, he spun around and lunged toward a wooden crate at the deepest end of the tunnel.
Sharp-eyed, Morin followed his movement and saw an old-fashioned detonator sitting on the wooden crate.
The intent couldn't be more obvious...
Braving the Romanian soldiers' fire, Morin glanced at his spell status. The overlapping shields of [Mage Armor] and [Shield] remained solid.
He stopped, bent his knees slightly to stabilize his stance, pressed the stock firmly into his shoulder pocket, and executed an unpretentious, flawless sequence: halt, aim, burst fire...
Three bullets left the barrel, accurately striking the spine and back of the head of the Romanian soldier attempting to trigger the detonator.
The soldier let out a muffled groan, his body falling forward due to inertia, his fingers less than a meter away from the detonator's plunger.
The remaining five Romanian soldiers fired simultaneously. The gunfire was deafening in the narrow tunnel, but the bullets striking Morin's shield only produced sparks of magical light.
Morin, meanwhile, rapidly shifted his fire among the remaining five men with short bursts.
This time, Morin was also careful enough to ensure every bullet hit its target without missing. After all, the depths of the tunnel were packed with explosives. Even if the probability of a bullet hitting and detonating them was minuscule, Morin wouldn't dare take that risk.
Two seconds later, the gunfire stopped.
Only the crackle of burning kerosene lamps and the heavy smell of gunpowder remained in the tunnel. The last Romanian soldier stared wide-eyed, his finger still on the trigger, a bloody hole already in the center of his forehead.
Morin exhaled a long breath. Confirming there were no survivors, he walked to the deepest part of the tunnel.
Even though he was mentally prepared, he was still stunned when he saw the scene before him.
Stacks of wooden crates were piled all the way to the end of the tunnel. Some crates were already open, revealing the yellowish-brown blocks of explosives inside.
Detonators and fuses were scattered nearby, and several thick wires extended into blast holes deep within the rock face.
Before the battle began, those Austro-Hungarian mountain veterans had repeatedly emphasized that both sides had fought over the pass for years, and the quantity of explosives hoarded was staggering.
But seeing a pile of explosives of this scale with his own eyes delivered a completely different kind of shock.
Simultaneously, the system's [Intelligence] interface "considerately" popped up detailed data.
This was the detonation point at the Predeal Pass with the most explosives planted, containing a total of 184 tons of military-grade explosives.
184 tons... Morin felt a bit dizzy. This wasn't just a matter of leveling a mountain peak anymore.
And in the supplementary information below the [Intelligence] interface, it was mentioned that besides this location, the pass defense line had two other detonation points, storing 30 tons and 40 tons of explosives respectively.
Seeing this, Morin immediately glanced at the system map. Only after confirming that the vanguard units charging the pass had already secured these two detonation points first according to the operational plan did he completely relax and sling his submachine gun back onto his chest.
He turned around, reassessing these nearly three hundred tons of explosives.
This was a massive powder keg; the slightest misstep would result in being blown to smithereens.
But thinking about it from another angle, these military supplies originally meant to be used against the allied forces had now fallen intact into his hands.
Three hundred tons of ready-made military explosives—this could be considered a grand gift from the Romanians.
Morin rubbed his chin, his mind working rapidly.
In this world where moving heavy artillery was difficult and fortification-breaching methods were relatively limited, there were countless uses for explosives.
In his mind surfaced various "god-tier" operations older generations in his previous world used with explosive satchels on the battlefield.
Flying Thunder Cannons (improvised mortars launching explosive charges), continuous demolition tactics... those traditional crafts that delivered terrifying lethality using the most rudimentary equipment.
Morin: "It's time to bring out the traditional craft of the older generation using explosive satchels..."
The battle for the Predeal Pass and the two adjacent passes concluded faster than anyone expected.
From the moment the L15 armored airship dropped flares and Morin air-dropped with the Armored Knights, to the complete clearing of the remaining defenders on the positions, the entire process was extremely brief.
The Kampfgruppe stretched a one-and-a-half-kilometer battle line across the steep mountainous terrain, and in just a single wave of attacks, completely shredded the Romanians' defense line.
The battle line was pushed directly to the designated position. With just one more step forward, the allied forces would officially set foot on the territory of the Kingdom of Romania.
The artillery fire at the foot of the mountain had ceased. Halfway up the mountain and on the passes, the busy figures of allied soldiers were everywhere.
The instruction unit and Austro-Hungarian mountain infantry were rapidly clearing the battlefield, treating the wounded, and simultaneously utilizing the fortifications left by the Romanians to rebuild defensive positions.
Morin walked out of the tunnel, standing at the highest point of the pass, looking down at this land that had just experienced the flames of war.
He didn't feel much surprise regarding this sweeping victory.
Because in his view, this was a matter of course.
The instruction unit under his command had received the most advanced tactical and physical training in this world;
The intensity of individual and support firepower of the Kampfgruppe far exceeded that of the opposing Romanian defenders;
The L15 armored airship provided aerial reconnaissance and suppressive fire akin to a dimensional strike;
Three Armored Knights bypassed the natural barriers and plunged directly into the enemy formation...
Not to mention, he himself, an overpowered "Hero Unit," personally took the field, taking the lead in creating chaos sufficient to cause a collapse in the center of the enemy's defense line.
Facing such an all-encompassing crushing advantage, if they still couldn't achieve a swift victory, Morin would only feel that all previous efforts were wasted.
Although Morin thought this way, in the eyes of others, the process of this battle could only be called a "military miracle."
Especially those Austro-Hungarian officers...
Colonel Holzer stood not far away, looking at Morin standing at the high point overlooking the entire pass. The shock in his heart could not calm down for a long time.
He had fought mountain warfare for half his life and had never seen this kind of tactic... No long, bloody uphill assaults, no war of attrition filling the gaps with human lives.
Precise night bombardment, suppression from an aerial war beast, Armored Knights dropping from the sky, plus those assault infantry fast as cheetahs... The entire Romanian garrison force had its structure shattered in an extremely short time.
However, Morin ignored the awe-filled gazes around him, calling Manstein and Paulus over.
The two staff officers still carried the excitement of victory on their faces.
"Commander, all units are in position. Casualty counting is underway. Preliminary estimates indicate our casualties tonight are not significant." Manstein reported rapidly.
Paulus pushed up his glasses and added: "The Romanians' defense line has been completely punched through. The road south is open... Vehicles have already begun ascending the mountain road. We can advance towards the plains region at any time."
Morin nodded, pointing to the tunnel behind him.
"There are nearly two hundred tons of explosives inside, and almost a hundred tons in the other two passes... Notify the engineer units to extract all these explosives, repackage and bundle them according to explosive ordnance disposal regulations."
Manstein and Paulus were both stunned.
Three hundred tons of explosives?
Yes, during the pre-battle conference, they had indeed learned from the Austro-Hungarians that the amount of explosives planted on this pass might not be small.
But they never expected it to be an absurd number like three hundred tons...
"Commander."
Paulus thought for a moment, then asked somewhat hesitantly:
"Such a massive quantity of explosives is very difficult to transport... and our upcoming operational area is the Romanian plains. We won't need to conduct large-scale mountain blasting. Taking this stuff along, won't it slow down the troops' advance?"
Hearing this, Morin shook his head, a smile appearing on his face that the two were very familiar with.
"Who said explosives can only be used to blow up mountains?"
After the sun fully rose, the situation of the battle at the Predeal Pass in the early hours of the morning was transmitted back to the Kingdom of Romania's capital, Bucharest, over a hundred kilometers away, via telegrams from friendly forces.
In the conference room of the Army General Staff, Chief of the General Staff General Ferdinand Mavrocordatos clutched a newly delivered telegram, veins popping on the back of his hand.
"The Predeal Pass... contact lost." His voice was hoarse as he slapped the telegram heavily onto the table.
Uproar filled the conference room.
"How is that possible! How long has it been?"
A senior staff officer jumped to his feet, his face full of disbelief.
"Didn't the last telegram just say the enemy launched an attack? Our reinforcing garrison troops are already on the way!"
"No need to go."
Ferdinand pushed the telegram forward, looking as drained as a deflated balloon.
"This is the last message sent by nearby observation posts... The Saxons deployed armored airships to support their large-scale offensive. Merely two hours later, the gunfire on the pass defense line had disappeared."
"Two hours..."
The staff officer who just spoke slumped back into his chair, his face full of disbelief.
"That was our strongest mountain defense line, how could it collapse so fast?"
Unfortunately, no one could answer this question anymore.
Forcing himself to calm down, General Ferdinand rested his hands on the tabletop, scanning the officers present.
"Gentlemen, we previously predicted the Saxons would reach the city walls within a week... It seems now, we were grossly mistaken."
"Based on the combat power and attack speed they are currently displaying, at most three days, and their vanguard will appear in the outskirts of Bucharest!"
"Three days?!"
"Our main force is still in Bulgaria! The first batch of troops is barely starting to load onto trains!"
"How can there be enough time..."
"Enough, quiet!!!"
Ferdinand slammed the table heavily, cutting off the gasps of the crowd.
"Now, pass my orders... Go notify His Majesty, the royal family members, and the Kingdom's parliament. Evacuation time is moved up. They must immediately relocate to Constanța on the Black Sea coast! Do not delay for even a minute!"
"Then what about the defense of the capital?" an officer asked.
"Weapons are already being distributed. Have the General Staff military police mobilize and send everyone who can hold a gun to the streets!"
Ferdinand gritted his teeth, issuing the order he wanted to issue least.
"Police, militia, veterans, arm everyone... Even if we have to fill the gaps with human lives, we must buy time for the main force to return and reinforce!"
Not long after the high-level evacuation information was released, the Bucharest Central Railway Station saw a massive influx of dignitaries who rarely showed their faces publicly.
However, they were clearly in a state of chaos now...
Expensive and ornately decorated carriages drove into the station one after another, loaded full of suitcases of all sizes.
Noble ladies lifted their skirts, surrounded by servants, scrambling and pushing toward the special trains.
Members of parliament argued until their faces turned red over a compartment seat, completely lacking the dignity they usually displayed in the parliamentary halls.
"Let me on first! I'm from the Ministry of Finance!"
"Get lost! My suitcases are full of state secrets!"
The shouting and swearing in the station intertwined with the crying of women. The military police responsible for maintaining order simply couldn't control these usually high-and-mighty bigwigs, and could only watch helplessly as they shoved their way onto the trains like fleeing refugees.
Inside the Old Royal Palace of Bucharest, King Ferdinand I of Romania, wearing a crisp military uniform, stood by the window of his study, looking at the chaotic scene on the streets outside.
"Your Majesty, the special train is ready... Most members of parliament have already boarded. We should leave." The Minister of War stood behind him, sweating profusely as he watched the King's calm demeanor.
Ferdinand I turned around, his expression exceptionally tranquil.
"You leave."
"Your Majesty?" The Minister of War was stunned.
"I said, you leave."
Ferdinand I adjusted his collar and continued:
"Have Queen Marie take the children to Constanța... As the King of Romania, I cannot abandon my capital at a time like this."
"But the Saxons will be here soon! It's too dangerous here!"
"If even the King runs away, what reason do the people left behind in the capital have to fight for their lives?" Ferdinand I waved his hand. "No need to persuade me further... Go arrange the Queen's evacuation. Without my orders, no one is to disturb me."
The Minister of War wanted to say more, but seeing the King's face brooking no negotiation, he could only sigh and exit the study.
Queen Marie had been waiting in the hallway for a long time. Seeing the Minister of War come out, she quickly went to meet him.
"Is His Majesty still unwilling to leave?"
"Yes, His Majesty insists on staying." The Minister of War shook his head.
Queen Marie bit her lip, looking at the tightly shut wooden door of the study.
"I understand... You go to the train station first. I will stay and keep him company."
"Your Highness, this..."
"Go!"
After dismissing the unnecessary personnel, Queen Marie and a few loyal confidants guarded both ends of the hallway.
She knew her husband too well... Ferdinand I, hailing from Saxony, was never a reckless man. If he chose to stay, there could only be one reason.
Inside the study, Ferdinand I, sensing that Queen Marie hadn't left, sighed. He then walked slowly to a bookshelf, reached out, and pulled out a heavy ancient Latin tome.
Accompanied by a dull sound of mechanical friction, the bookshelf slowly slid open to both sides, revealing a stone staircase leading underground.
The faint light of torches flickered at the bottom of the stone stairs.
Ferdinand I walked down the stairs step by step. The air became increasingly damp and cold, even carrying a pungent metallic smell of blood.
He reached the end of the basement, an extremely spacious circular area.
Torches inserted in the walls illuminated the basement intermittently. In the exact center of the basement stood a tall sculpture.
The main subject of the sculpture was a formidable man in medieval full plate armor, resting both hands on a broad-bladed greatsword.
But surrounding the sculpture was a hair-raising scene—a dense array of sharpened wooden stakes arranged in a ring, enclosing the sculpture in the middle. Impaled on each wooden stake was a long-desiccated corpse. The corpses maintained poses of extreme agony from before death, their hollow eye sockets staring fixedly in the direction of the entrance.
It could be said that the sculptor's incredibly masterful skills made these horrifying sculptures lifelike.
And this cruel method of execution, in the history of Romania, had always been the signature of one man...
On the base at the very bottom of the statue, a line of text, deeply weathered by time, was roughly carved.
"To rule the Dragon of Wallachia, you must become part of the Dragon..."